


Bad Boy

by Queenofthebees



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Dom Sansa, Drunk Jon, Established Relationship, F/M, Hand Jobs, Handcuffs, Officer Sansa, Orgasm Delay/Denial, PWP, Spanking, Sub Jon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-07
Updated: 2018-01-07
Packaged: 2019-03-01 18:29:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13300716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Queenofthebees/pseuds/Queenofthebees
Summary: When Jon is escorted home having been kicked out of a bar, Sansa dons the role of her officer persona and makes sure Jon won't be such a bad boy again.





	Bad Boy

**Author's Note:**

> Salute to Kit, the gift that just keeps giving lol.

Sansa clucked her tongue in annoyance as Brienne marched Jon up the path to the house. At least she had used an undercover car, she thought. The neighbours wouldn’t know Jon had been chucked out of the bar for a few days yet.

His wide eyes caught hers, the look of a deer in the headlights and his cheeks flushed pink as he averted his eyes again. Sansa folded her arms as she narrowed her own gaze.

“I’m sorry,” he moaned as he reached the door, stumbling slightly on the step and his hand flew out to brace against the door frame for support, Brienne’s own hand on his shoulder to stop him stumbling backwards. He took a deep breath and looked at her again as she raised her eyebrows expectantly. “It was Pyp and Grenn’s fault. And I don’t even know how I got so drunk and… hold up, hold up!” he cried, raising a hand. “Where the fuck is my scarf?”

He patted the collar of his shirt dramatically, turning his pockets out as though it could have been in there. He turned to look at Brienne, who just looked completely puzzled by his antics. Sansa hated the fact she let out an amused snort. Drunk Jon was a dork, she thought with grudging affection.

“Thanks for bringing him home Brienne,” Sansa eventually said, as Jon turned in a full circle, looking at the ground for his scarf. Her co-worker just smiled.

“No problem,” she said, giving Jon an amused look as he frowned in adorable confusion, as though he had genuinely expected his scarf to appear. “Don’t be too hard on him!”

“No promises,” Sansa quipped, grasping Jon’s arm. He blinked at her.

“You’re so hot when you’re mad,” he blurted out suddenly, a grin spreading across his face. Sansa glanced towards where Brienne was getting into her car, thankful she couldn’t hear Jon say such things.

“Bed,” she commanded, dragging him through the door.

“Hubba bubba,” Jon replied with a snicker, falling against the wall as he bent to try and take his right shoe off. Sansa snorted and rolled her eyes.

“That is a brand of bubble gum dear,” she commented dryly. Jon blinked at her slowly as though she had told him something about quantum physics. “And I doubt you’d last long enough to get yourself out of your jeans, let alone get me out of my clothes.”

Jon stumbled towards her, grasping her waist and pressing sloppy kisses against her neck. She squirmed, trying not to smile at the state of him, swaying slightly as he held her with just one shoe on.

“Love you,” he mumbled, pulling her harder against him. She rolled her eyes, letting her own arms encircle his neck.

“I love you too,” she replied, kissing his shoulder and smiling. “Even when you’re a pain in my ass.”

“What?” he said, stumbling back. “I thought I took care when we…”

“Not literally Jon!” she cut him off, blushing at the memory of that particular sexual experiment.

“Oh,” he stated dumbly. Sansa sighed, moving to put his arm around his shoulder.

“Come on, you need to sleep to try and counter the hangover you are bound to have tomorrow,” she teased.

***

Jon stirred slowly, wakening to the feel of his head totally pounding and drool on his pillow. He groaned, turning his head to glance at Sansa who was siting up in bed next to him reading her book. She glanced at him with an amused smirk.

“Morning dear,” she greeted. Jon groaned again, his head dropping back onto the pillow. He heard Sansa placing the book down and then felt her hands around his waist, her lips at the crown of his head, then his ear, his jaw. And then her hand slowly traveled down, resting at the top of his naval.

“Stop it,” he mumbled, even as he was already feeling his cock beginning to stir.

“Hmmm, you were in the mood last night,” she teased.

“Give me one more hour of sleep and I’ll show you how in the mood I am,” he promised sleepily.

To his surprise, Sansa kissed his head again before he felt her move away. He cracked his right eye open, watching her grab her clothes and a towel before heading into the ensuite, throwing him a teasing look over her shoulder.

Gods, he was never drinking again, he thought miserably.

Pfft, who was he kidding, of course he was.

He wasn’t going to drink so much that he couldn’t have sex all night and the next morning with Sansa. That was a more reasonable challenge, he thought.

***

“You were a bad boy last night Jon,” she hummed and Jon opened his eyes slowly, glancing at the clock to see he had slept for over two and a half hours. He raised his head, eyes widening as he saw Sansa standing at the end of the bed in her uniform, dangling a pair of handcuffs tauntingly at her side.

“Sans,” he started, trying to get himself to sit up.

“Keep yourself on your stomach, face down,” she interrupted firmly. Jon swallowed, feeling his cock harden at her command. He licked his lips, laying his head back down. He felt her mount the bed behind him and shivered. Sansa rarely showed her more dominant side but Gods, he loved it when she did. “Hands up to the bars!”

He obeyed, breath hitching as he felt the cool metal against his wrist. He glanced up through his hair as she threaded the chain between the bars and clicked it around the other. He felt her shift, her weight settling at the top of his thighs.

He squirmed as he felt her caress his arse cheeks, grasping the flesh in her palms and then stroking over them. He licked his lips, as he felt her lean across, her breath tickling his ear.

“Are you ready to be punished, my naughty boy?” she purred.

“Yes,” he whimpered.

The first crack of her palm is light, an almost teasing pat. His breath hitched all the same and he squirmed under the assault. His face flushed as she brought her palm down again and again and again.

He pressed his forehead against the coolness of the pillow, groaning as his hips start to rut against the sheets. She smacked him harder, her other hand grabbing his hair.

“Don’t you dare rut against my sheets,” she growled and Jon whimpered, hands pulling against the cuffs.

“Sansa, please!” he moaned. She paused, running a hand mockingly over his heated skin.

“What?” she prompted and then she was lifting her hand. Jon jerked as the cool liquid poured over his flesh and he moaned as he felt her rub it in.

“Please, let me cum,” he begged.

“Bad boys don’t get to cum when they want,” she snapped. “You’ll cum when I tell you to. Now, on your knees.”

Jon obeyed, awkwardly lifting himself up, his body arched as the chains hold his lower half down. He could imagine Sansa smirking at him as she ran her hands over his back, over his hip and then back to his arse. His breath hitched as her hand moved around his hip and he groaned as his cock is encased in her palm, her hand starting to stroke gently.

“Remember Jon,” she whispered, biting his ear as her hand picked up her pace, thumb swirling around the tip. Jon whimpered, hips thrusting into the tight grip. He choked as she grasped him tightly in warning.  “Don’t cum.”

“Please!” he whined, pulling at the cuffs in desperation. Sansa hummed resuming her movements. Jon swallowed, eyes clenching shut as she brought him closer and closer. “Please Sansa!”

“Say it,” she said lightly, breath ghosting his cheek. Jon groaned, cheeks flushing at the demand. “Say it Jon!”

Oh, the little minx, he thought. She was using his own words against him. He always liked teasing her pure, innocent nature. Every time she flushed as he told her what a filthy girl she was, his bad girl. He had particularly enjoyed calling her such when he took her arse for the first time.

“I’m….” he started, biting his lip against the words as his whole face heats up now. He can feel her smirk. He took a shuddering breath. “I’m a bad boy.”

“Yes, you are,” she cooed. “Are you going to behave now? Or do I have to keep you cuffed!”

“I’ll be good!” he whined as he desperately chased his end, bucking helplessly into her hand. “Please!”

“You can cum,” she said, stroking him harder. And then she dipped down, her head disappearing under him and he felt her lips close around him. He practically howled, thrusting shallowly into her mouth, his wrists raw as he pulled at them. She hummed around him and Jon tensed, his head tilting back as he shoved his cock hard inside her mouth and released.

“Fuck!” he muttered helplessly as she shifted off of him and he collapsed down boneless. Sansa moved and unlocked the cuffs, tossing them to the side. Jon blinked at her, feeling his eyes start to droop again. But he reached for her, curling his fingers around her wrist.

“I’m really sorry about last night,” he said gently. She smiled, running a hand through his hair.

“I was worried about you is all,” she replied, kissing his head.

“So, you’re not mad at me?” he questioned. Sansa smiled again, slowly shaking her head.

“No, you’re forgiven,” she teased. Jon grinned, rolling on top of her and delighting in Sansa’s squeal as he pinned her hands.

“Now, I think you enjoyed that a bit too much, my filthy girl,” he growled.


End file.
